


Breakfast, Interrupted

by keelhaulrose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 22:21:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15519885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelhaulrose/pseuds/keelhaulrose
Summary: Just because breakfast is the most important meal of the day doesn't mean that it can't be interrupted for a little bit of fun.





	Breakfast, Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Hermione SmutFest 2018
> 
> Prompt #66: "Fate is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast"
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural.

Sam Winchester woke up with a smile and a nagging erection. Without opening his eyes he groped the other side of the bed hoping to take care of the latter, but when his hand found nothing he realized Hermione was already up and out of bed. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times, until the clock on her side of the bed came into focus. Almost 9 am. No surprise Hermione was already up, it was rare she was in bed after 7, only staying when she found herself entwined with Sam, preferring not to wake him unless necessary. Sam knew when he wasn’t in town she was always in bed around 10, and he hadn’t gotten in until midnight the night before. Dean dropped him off at Hermione’s house after rolling in from a hunt that he wasn’t sure they should have started, lest he not get back in time. It wasn’t much, just a salt and burn in the end, but coming in at midnight was cutting it close. Hermione had been asleep when he got in, stress written on her face even in slumber, so he decided not to wake her and slid in next to her.

 

He got up, heading straight to the bathroom to relieve himself and take a quick shower to wash the last of the dirt from the hunt off and tame his erection. When he came out he could smell food, and he threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt quickly in order to follow the scent.

 

Hermione was in her own world over the stove. As talented a witch as she was, she rarely used magic while cooking, and she likened it to potion making. “The best potions are made by following the instructions and not cutting corners with magic, and the best food as well,” she told him once. He leaned against the door frame to watch her, and thought about what led them to this point. Hermione was the most talented magical mind-healer in the world, and when he had suffered his mental break once getting his soul back Cass had managed to find her and, over a week of intense sessions and little sleep, she was finally able to repair the wall for good. But their connection didn’t end, he had seen so much of her and her of him that even her leaving in an attempt to keep things professional wasn’t enough, and within a week their intense relationship began. Two years later had tamed some of the intensity, but she was now as much a part of his life as Dean and Cass.

 

“What are you thinking about over there?” she asked, not looking up as she rolled an omelette onto a plate and placing it on the island bar in front of the chair he normally took. She rolled another onto a second plate, putting that at her spot, with a plate of toast and a bowl of fruit between them to share. He was silent a moment, admiring the tiny shorts and threadbare, oversized t-shirt that was her normal nighttime attire, marveling at the hair that, despite her many attempts to tame, never fully lost some of its bushy quality especially in the mornings, and appreciating the delicate curves of her frame.

 

“Fate bringing us here,” he finally replied, walking forward and taking her into his arms.

 

“Fate is a very weighty word to throw around before breakfast,” she smiled, standing on tip-toe to give him a kiss before he let her go and they sat down, bodies turned towards each other.

 

He took one bite of his omelette and had to suppress a moan, after weeks on the road eating whatever Dean was willing to stop to get home-cooked food was as close to Heaven as he’d get without dying. He held himself back from shoveling it in Dean-style, and swallowed before saying, “You don’t think fate brought us together?”

 

“I think an angel brought us together,” she said with a straight face that broke a second later into a wide smile and a soft chuckle.

 

“An angel who had just so happened to hear about this amazing mind healer not two days before, and who found you in the Muggle world within minutes of needing you when you could have been hidden in the magical world for weeks, _and_ was able to convince you to come without needing to prove anything? What else but Fate would have you so blindly trust some nutjob in a trenchcoat claiming to be an angel saying he needs to protect someone’s mind from Lucifer?”

 

“Well, when you put it like that…” she chuckled. “I’m telling Cass you called him a nutjob in a trenchcoat, by the way.”

 

“You do that you know Dean will pick it up.”

 

“Either that or he’ll get mad at me for insulting his angel friend,” she said, summoning a jar from her pantry.

 

“Dean doesn’t forget people who helped us easily. You could punch his angel friend in the face and you’d still be good with him,” he said, eyeing the jar as she opened it up. “Is that…?” he asked longingly.

 

“Molly Wealsey’s homemade blackcurrant jam,” she finished, spreading some onto a piece of toast. She held the piece out towards him so he could take a bite, but when he leaned forward she snatched it away, taking a bite herself with a smirk. He couldn’t help smiling and letting off a chuckle himself before he took hold of her hand and pulled it towards him, taking a bite, and she bit her lip when he closed his eyes and had a satisfied look come across his face.

 

“Thank you for cooking this morning,” he said as he started cutting another piece of omelette with his fork. “I know it’s a busy day.”

 

“All the more reason to start it with a good breakfast,” she said, popping a grape into her mouth.

 

“And a strong cup of coffee,” he added, lifting his cup.

 

“It won’t be that bad,” she assured him. “If I had to rank it, I’d put it around ‘vengeful spirit’.”

 

He pulled the cup away from his lips to avoid snorting the hot coffee. She let off a laugh and plucked a strawberry half from the bowl. When he looked over at her she rested it against her bottom lip, her lips barely parted as just a hint of a smile curved the corners of her mouth. Without thinking his hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist firmly. She struggled playfully as he pulled her hand towards him, wrapping his lips around the berry and just the tip of her finger before applying a little pressure. She bit her bottom lip and inhaled as she watched him, and when he let her go he picked up the other half of the berry, lightly tracing the curve of her bottom lip as he coaxed her mouth open and put the berry in. A jolt of excitement shot through him as he locked eyes with her, seeing her eyes filled with lust and the kind of spark he knew once he ignited would only be tamed by a good shag. But Hermione was nothing if not patient, knowing that if she waited just a little longer she’d find the right move that caused him to lose control, pushing him just far enough that he’d pick her up, throw her down, bend her over the chair, anything to get inside her and fulfill the need that their frequent separations caused. He swallowed and tried to drain the emotion from his face. He loved this game, but couldn’t give in too quickly, even in his sexually frustrated state. His erection was back, and he shifted slightly to make it less noticeable, but couldn’t move too much or she would know she had already won, and there was no fun in that.

 

She picked her weapon carefully, another piece of toast, and she took her time slathering it with more jam than strictly necessary. Tantalizingly slowly she brought it to her lips, taking a bite but closing her lips while the rest of the slice was still in place, getting some of the jam on her top lip. She slowly licked it off, running her tongue from one side to the other so slowly he nearly lost his resolve. The hand holding the toast, still hovering close to her face, went just limp enough that a drop of jam fell, landing just above the low hemline of the shirt. She put the toast down and pulled the shirt down, not so low that she showed everything, but just low enough that he could distinguish the inside curve of her breast and got a hint of the outer part of her nipple, before she swiped her finger across the spot, scooping up the jam. She had just about brought it to her lips when he grabbed her hand again, pulling it to him and sucking the jam off before his resolve fully broke and he leaned forward, crashing his lips into hers, wrapping his arms around her and grabbing her ass to hoist her up as he stood. She wrapped her legs around him as he spun her and deposited her onto the counter, his hands sliding up her body as he pulled the thin shirt up, and he broke their kiss just long enough to pull it over her head and throw it to the side. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, lifting her chest as he slid his hands up her, cupping her orbs and giving them a gentle squeeze. Her thighs tightened around his hips, pulling him towards her as she kissed him furiously.

 

“Do you think this counts as bad luck?” she murmured as she pulled his t-shirt off.

 

“Everything I've been through? This is some of the best luck of my life,” he replied with a chuckle, kissing her one more time before lowering himself so he was kneeling. Looking up he saw her flush, biting her lip and lifting her ass just long enough to help him pull the shorts down. He took a moment to revel in her before peppering her interior thigh with kisses. When he could feel her trembling in anticipation he touched his tongue to her folds.

 

“Sweet Circe!” she cried, her hands tightening on the edge of the counter as her head fell back, pressing into the cabinet behind her.

 

He smiled as his tongue flicked against her. There was nothing better in the world than seeing bliss written across the face of the woman he loved. Learning everything he could do to cause that look took some time, but it was some of the best times of his life. And as much as he wanted to spend all morning nestled between her thighs in one manner or another he knew it wasn't the day for it, and so he resorted to his best tricks. He slipped two fingers inside her as he went from flicking her nub to circling it, putting increasingly more pressure on it as he made a come-hither motion inside her. One of her hands wrapped tightly into his hair as she purred her satisfaction. He moved his arms instinctively pressing against her thighs as they threatened to tighten against his head. Her breathing sped up as her body began to shake and she tightened around his fingers. With a loud cry of his name she finally came, and he watched as she came down, finally looking down at him, eyes alight with lust. She gently tugged his hair, and he stood, crashing his lips into hers. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, and she reached between them, undoing the fly of his jeans and pushing them down just far enough to free his cock. She gave him a few strokes, waiting to hear his groan of approval before she guided him into her. He thrust forward, burying himself as far as he could and being rewarded for his effort as she dug her fingernails into his back. She adjusted her hips forward and wrapped her legs tightly against him as he began moving against her, slow at first. They might not have much time, but he was going to enjoy every moment and make sure it didn't end too soon.

 

“Sam,” she hissed as he pulled her head back by wrapping his hand in her hair and pulling back. He kissed her neck, and felt goose bumps grow on her arms and legs as his stubble tickled her as he gently sucked on her pulse point. One of his hands steadied himself on the cabinet while the other played with her breasts. Normally he would take his time in each spot, not caring if he left a mark on her, but today he was careful about moving his lips often as he sped up his thrusts. When her fingers tightened painfully on his shoulder he knew she was starting to get close, and he moved his hand from her breasts between them, long fingers circling her nub.

 

“Sam...” she breathed shakily again, and he could feel her walls tightening against him. He caught her lips with his again, kissing her fervently as she came apart around him, crying into his mouth as she orgasmed again. She was still coming down as he thrust a few more times, finally letting himself go and spilling into her.

 

Her arms wrapped tightly around him, pressing herself into him, her head resting against his shoulder as they both caught their breath.

 

“That was needed,” he murmured into her hair, and he could feel her let off a silent chuckle.

 

“I'm not going to argue that,” she replied, moving so she could give him a kiss. “I wouldn't mind having another go.”

 

“I wouldn't say no,” he smiled, but he could hear the purr of the Impala's engine outside. “I don't think it's going to happen, though. We're about to be invaded.”

 

“Damn,” she muttered, giving him one more kiss before he pulled away from her. As he pulled his jeans up her pajamas flew wordlessly into her hands, and she was just pulling the bottoms on as they could hear Dean unlocking the front door. She managed to get the top over her less than a second before Dean's bootsteps rounded the corner, and he appeared in the doorway, holding three garment bags.

 

“Smells like sex in here,” Dean mused with a smirk.

 

“Good to see you too, Dean,” Hermione rolled her eyes, but she smiled as she slid off the counter and crossed the room to give him a kiss on the cheek.

 

“Not that I'm not happy to see you, but it's ten thirty. I'm surprised you don't have somewhere to be.”

 

“I am running a little late,” she shrugged, summoning a pair of jeans from her bedroom and pulling them on over her shorts.

 

“And here I thought the groom wasn't supposed to see the bride on the wedding day.”

 

“If I were looking for traditional I'm marrying into the wrong family,” she smiled, sliding past him into the front room where a dress bag and another bag were waiting. She slid on a pair of shoes and grabbed the bags. “I'll see you in a few hours,” she smiled.

 

“I'll be the one at the front,” Sam replied, stepping forward to give her a quick kiss.

 

“And I'll make sure they're there on time,” a voice added, and Dean jumped.

 

“Dammit, Cass!” Dean cried.

 

“I thought you told me to be here by now,” Castiel replied.

 

“The front door is an option!” he growled.

 

“I really do need to get going,” Hermione announced. “Good to see you, nutjob in a trenchcoat,” she smiled at Castiel before Disapparating.

 

“What did she just call him?” Dean asked.

 

Sam smiled and shook his head.

 


End file.
